Absolute Sex On Legs
by CastielConsultingTimelord
Summary: With Sam stable and Castiel now a human, Dean takes Castiel shopping for some new clothes (and actually enjoys it). Destiel (Dean/Castiel). Slash. One-shot. Post 8x23.


**A/N: More Destiel yay! Just as a heads-up, Dean has a minor clothing!kink in this fic. Nothing explicit, he just likes to see Castiel in different clothes (and likes to help him take them off).**

* * *

**Absolute Sex On Legs**

After the fateful day when the angels fell, Castiel found Dean and Sam sitting outside the Impala, watching as angel after angel fell like comets hurtling towards earth. An intense flood of admiration and happiness had torn through Dean the moment he'd seen him: his boyfriend was alive. Everything was going to be okay. Together, they had gotten in the car and just drove straight for the Men of Letters headquarters. They were determined to get Sam better, no matter how long it took.

It had taken them a few days, countless vials of medication, and bottle after bottle of whiskey, but finally, Sam was looking better. The agonizing burden of the first two trials seemed to have finally worked its way out of Sam's system. His face was paler than it had been, his cheeks hollow and his hair limp, but he finally had the energy to smile, just for a second, at Dean. Castiel was clasping Dean's hand beside him, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. Dean needed the reassurance and stability because right now, with everything that was happening, Dean needed someone who was constant. Castiel may not have his angel mojo anymore, but he was still Dean's angel, his light in the dark. It was reassuring to see Sam trying to sit up, even when Dean put a firm hand on Sam's chest and forced him back down into his mound of pillows and blankets. Surprisingly, the Men of Letters headquarters were well equipped with enough blankets to keep an entire army warm.

Of course, with Sam resting and stabilized, Dean had something new to worry about: Castiel. He was still adjusting to being human, and he had quickly learned that humans had to change clothes often, and that they couldn't be magically cleaned like his holy tax accountant outfit. Dean had almost cried with laughter the first time Castiel spilt a glass of orange juice on his trench coat and had tried to clean it with his absent powers. He had the most intense look on his face Dean had ever seen, concentrating so hard that his face turned tomato red. Dean had to try to force his laughter back as he tried to explain this concept of laundry to Castiel.

Since then, Castiel had been borrowing some of Dean's pairs of jeans and old rock concert t-shirts, and as awesome as a small, possessive part of Dean felt whenever he saw Castiel wearing his clothes, he knew Castiel needed to have some of his own. So one day, when Sam was feeling well enough to speak again, Dean and Castiel hopped into the Impala and took off for town. That day, Castiel was wearing one of Dean's old leather jackets and an AC/DC t-shirt that hung loose on his smaller frame. It took Dean all of his willpower not to just screw going shopping and have his way with Castiel in the backseat of the Impala.

There was a little, fairly inexpensive shop next door to the one Dean had taken Charlie to not too long ago. One of the mannequins' in the shop window sported a long black trench coat. Castiel's face brightened and Dean knew he had taken him to the right place. Man did Castiel miss being able to wear that stupid old trench coat all the time (Dean would never admit it, but he missed that trench coat, too). The bell over the door rang out as Dean pushed the door open, Castiel trailing behind. Castiel's eyes widened, taking in racks of clothes, hangers full of jackets and shirts, and shelves filled with pants and shoes. It was as if he'd never been in a clothing store before, which, Dean soon realized, was actually true, not that Dean made a point of visiting stores that weren't well stocked with pie. The walls were painted a pleasant pale green, the décor tasteful and modern even to Dean's lack of experience in decorating.

A saleswoman greeted them happily at the door; the nametag on her pale blue shirt read _Andrea_. She was a little older, with gentle laugh lines curling around her bright blue eyes and her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. "Hello there!" She exclaimed. "Welcome to Heaven's Boutique! Can I help you with anything today?"

Before Dean could stop him, Castiel said, a little eagerly, "Is this really a boutique from Heaven?" Dean mentally facepalmed.

Andrea giggled. "No, unfortunately that's just the name of the store, sweetie." Castiel's face visibly fell. Dean resisted the urge to hug him close to his chest. Instead, he clapped his hands together loudly.

"Actually, I think you can. I'm trying to help my—" Dean wasn't sure what he should say. Friend? Boyfriend? Lover? Recently-fallen angel? Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Help my boyfriend find some new clothes," he finished. Castiel's head snapped to Dean. He of all people knew that Dean didn't like being affectionate in public. He didn't like letting people see what was meant to stay between the two of them. Andrea was unfazed, her smile still dazzlingly bright. "He's not really sure what he likes, and neither do I, so…"

She clapped her hands together. "Right, well, I will do my best." Andrea then took off, bustling about the store, grabbing shirts and jackets and pants by the armful, stopping only briefly to yell at one of the other saleswomen who was texting in the corner. Castiel continued to give Dean a strange look as he took his hand and lead him over to the changing rooms. Only two other patrons were in the shop. The older woman sent him a short glare before turning back to browsing through ties for her husband. Usually that would cause Dean enough stress to have him keep Castiel at arm's length, but today he wanted to hold him close. Alternatively, the younger woman flashed him and Cas a warm smile and walked up to the till.

"Dean," Castiel said as he sat down with Dean on a couch facing the dressing rooms. The fabric was white like fresh-fallen snow and similarly smooth. "I cannot help but notice you are being extremely…open with our relationship today. Is something wrong?"

"Aw, c'mon Cas," Dean said. He draped his arm around Castiel's shoulders and relaxed into the couch's soft cushions. "Can't a guy hold his boyfriend's hand every once in a while?"

"Of course, Dean, but you are avoiding my question. It is unlike you." Castiel paused and looked at his hands in his lap, twisting the ring Dean gave him around his middle finger. The ring had multiple white anti-possession symbols carved into its obsidian-black surface. Although they weren't sure how much protection the thing would actually give, now that Castiel was human they had to think of things like him getting possessed. It was only temporary, just until they found the time to get Castiel a tattoo like Dean and Sam had. And frankly, Dean could not wait until Castiel got it. He was so afraid every time they stepped out of their headquarters that Castiel would get randomly possessed because the ring wasn't doing what it should. Sometimes, the thought that he would have to kill Castiel to exorcise a demon plagued his dreaming mind. On those nights he'd wake up screaming, curled into Castiel's warmth. Castiel would sing to him in the little Enochian he remembered, stroking his hair and holding him tight until he fell back asleep. No matter how many times Castiel asked Dean never told him of the nature of his nightmares. "I mean to say you tend to be very guarded of our relationship. It seems odd to me that now of all times you choose to be open."

He was about to speak when Andrea reappeared on Dean's right. It looked like she was holding half of the shop in her arms. "Since you weren't sure what you wanted, I grabbed you a little bit of everything." Andrea dumped the clothes in a change room and pulled Castiel up. "C'mon, sweetie, let's get you into a couple things for your boyfriend." Andrea giggled again before shoving Castiel into the small room and dragging the black curtain closed.

Dean smiled. He could hear Castiel fumbling around inside the change room—god only knew how long it took him to figure out how to get clothes on and off properly. Dean had just been wishing he had a plate of pie on him when he heard the curtain slide back and Castiel stepped out.

Castiel was wearing a white button up shirt underneath a pale blue sweater and a pair of well-cut dark-wash jeans. Heat immediately rushed to Dean's cheeks. Castiel was fingering the sleeves of the sweater, frowning at them like they'd done him some sort of wrong. He looked up and made eye contact with Dean, and when he factored in Castiel's adorable blue eyes and perfectly mussed up hair, he knew Castiel must have this outfit, if only so Dean could take pleasure in removing it piece by piece later. "The sleeves are too long," Castiel pointed out helpfully. The long sleeves brushed the knuckles of his fingers.

Dean smirked. "Naw, Cas, they're supposed to be like that." He gave him a sharp whistle that had the both the staff and customers looking their way. "And we are definitely getting that for you. Now go back in there and change into something else. And Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

He winked and said, "Don't keep me waiting." Castiel flushed and nearly tripped in his rush to get back into the change room.

After that, outfit after outfit flew by. Andrea certainly knew her stuff. Everything Castiel walked out in stole Dean's breath. His wallet was definitely going to feel a lot lighter when they were done. He decided that those dark-wash jeans Castiel had worn in his first outfit were his favourite things ever. Castiel's ass looked fantastic in them, and they complimented almost everything he wore. In addition to the sweater Castiel was for sure purchasing a couple plaid shirts, a few plain t-shirts in varying shades of blue and green, and a crisp black leather jacket that might have made Dean a little bit aroused. However, Dean still hadn't seen what he wanted to. While Castiel was changing out of his latest outfit—a navy-blue cardigan, white shirt and black jeans—Dean rushed about the store, gathering what he thought would go well together. Andrea came to his side in an instant, and they put together what Dean thought was the perfect outfit. Andrea transported the garments inside Castiel's dressing room and Dean settled down in the cushions to wait.

"Dean?" came Castiel's soft voice from behind the curtain.

"Yeah, babe?"

Castiel hesitated. "I am unsure about this."

Rolling his eyes, Dean leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his thighs, resting his head against his fists. "I'm sure you look great. Now c'mon out here and let me s—"

Dean's jaw hit the floor. No, scratch that. Dean's jaw _shattered the floor on impact_. What had stepped out of the change room was not just Castiel. The _thing_ that had taken the place of Dean's boyfriend looked like absolute sex on legs. Castiel was biting his lip and avoiding Dean's eyes. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the black trench coat Castiel had been so excited to see when they'd first approached the store. Dean ran his eyes up and down Castiel and licked his lips. He and Andrea had picked out an all-black outfit almost exactly like the one Castiel normally wore. A black button-up and an undone black suit jacket hugged his torso, slimming him down and making him look taller. The top button was undone and it exaggerated the paleness of his exposed neck which made Dean immediately want to shower with kisses. Slightly tighter dress pants hugged his thighs, and a loosely tied black tie hung around his neck.

Somehow, despite all this, Dean was able to hold himself back. That is, until Castiel finally looked up and fixed him with that sexy, unblinking, blue-eyed stare. At that point, no amount of demons or angels could keep him from pouncing at Castiel and forcing his lips onto his. The older woman customer scoffed loudly and strutted past, muttering about them being "disgusting". Dean couldn't give two shits. He grasped Castiel's tie and yanked him closer, licking into his mouth while his other hand roamed to the back of Castiel's neck. Castiel moved in sync with Dean, matching him move for move, ignoring the slight bumping of noses as they maneuvered their lips into a new position. Dean let go of a breathy moan as Castiel's tongue pressed against his own. The hand on Castiel's neck began to wander, chasing the length of Castiel's spine and making him sigh. He smoothed down the back of Castiel's shirt and settled his hand on the curve of his ass.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be where Castiel drew the line. He removed his lips from Dean's and gave him a playful shove, disengaging Dean's hand from his ass, much to Dean's disappointment. "I believe," Castiel said, a little out of breath but his voice remained husky. His tie was disheveled and Dean reached over and fixed it, "that it would be wise to halt our interactions until we return to the headquarters."

Dean smiled. "Sure, Cas." He leaned in and pecked Castiel on the nose, teasingly swatting at his ass as he turned to get changed back into Dean's clothes. Together they carried Castiel's new clothing to the counter to get scanned. Dean still couldn't get his eyes off of Castiel, even though he was no longer dressed in the addictive black outfit. Lust still ran hot in his blood, and Dean wanted to be home so bad he nearly fell into a puddle on the way to the Impala.

When they got back home, Dean may or may not have asked Castiel to change into the black outfit before they had sex, just so Dean could help him remove it from his body. As they laid in the afterglow, Dean's arms around Castiel and Castiel snuggling into his chest, Dean said, "It's because I'm afraid."

Castiel cocked his head in that adorable little way. "Pardon?"

"The answer to your question earlier. At the shop," Dean said. He pressed his lips into Castiel's dark hair. "Every moment you spend as a human makes me more and more worried. I'm so used to you being invulnerable that I forget you aren't like that anymore. I'm scared, Cas, that I'll lose you, or let you down, or make you sad because that's what I do to everyone I love. And I don't want to be like that with you." Dean sighed and pressed his fingers under Castiel's chin so he could look at him properly. "I love you, and every time I don't hold your hand when I can or want to reminds me how different your life is now, that you can disappear in a split second like the rest of us. I don't want to lose those moments. I don't want to lose you."

"Dean," Castiel said. His voice sounded small. He traced nonsensical patterns across Dean's chest, the anti-possession ring shining even in the dark. "You won't ever lose me. I'm not going anywhere." He pressed his lips to Dean's, softly, lovingly. "I love you, too."

Dean smiled and watched Castiel's eyes flutter closed. Soon his did the same, and he held Castiel as close to him as he could. Dean drifted off to sleep, his dreams swirling with blues and blacks and Castiel. There was no way he was having nightmares tonight, not while his loving guardian angel was watching over him.

* * *

**A/N: Follow me on tumblr for faster fic uploads or for more Destiel: castiel-theconsultingtimelord . tumblr . com**


End file.
